


Senseless

by OctoberRain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Childhood Friends, Domestic Violence, F/M, Holidays, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Older Dean, Pining Castiel, alternative universe, john and mary are alive and well, shitty parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-20 12:25:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4787195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OctoberRain/pseuds/OctoberRain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He could love him so much better than she ever could. God, he wished he would give him a chance. He would never make him hurt. Ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unsure

**Author's Note:**

> “And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”  
> ― Paulo Coelho, _The Alchemist_  
> 

“He’s been sitting like that for _days_ , Cas.”

“Sam, that is an exaggeration. He’s only been home since Thursday.”

“Cas,” Sam said. “Please. I can’t get him to talk.”

Castiel picked at his now bleeding lip. “Fine. However, you have to check up on me in ten minutes in case things are going badly.”

“Deal,” Sam said, sighing in relief.

Castiel grumbled something under his breath while he stood up from the floor to saunter downstairs to Dean’s room in the basement. Once he reached the door, he immediately recognized the booming guitar riffs of AC/DC.

Castiel stupidly knocked on the door. He inwardly chastised himself. There was no way that Dean could hear him. He placed a hand on the doorknob, silently praying that it was locked. When he turned the knob and opened the door, he sighed.

He made his way down the creaky wooden steps, music getting louder and louder as he approached “Dean’s Den,” as Dean liked to call it.

“Dean?” Castiel said, creeping around the corner of the staircase. Dean’s room was a mess. He had boxers and empty Coke cans littered across his floor. Castiel swore that the leftover Chinese food on the dilapidated guitar case was growing hair. He frowned when he realized that he would probably have to burn his socks after being in this dump. Castiel didn’t see Dean immediately, so he raised his voice and called, “Dean?”

He found Dean crumpled up underneath a large amount of blankets on his bed. He was facing the wall, so he did not see Castiel come in. Castiel walked across the basement to the stereo and shut off the music, which immediately resulted in an angry Dean Winchester.

“Sam, I told you to fuck off!” Dean snarled, throwing off the covers. His angry expression turned into one of mild surprise when he saw it was Castiel. Dean was suddenly tired. “Did Sam send you?”

Castiel fiddled with his overly long sweater sleeves. “Would it matter if he did?”

Dean flopped back down into his bed. “What do you want?”

“Why are you crying?”

Dean snapped up and glared at him. “I do not _cry_.”

Castiel strolled over and sat at the edge of Dean’s bed. “Then why are your eyes red?”

“Allergies,” Dean replied easily.

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “You suddenly have allergies now?”

“I’ve always had allergies.”

“No, you haven’t,” Castiel rebutted. “I’ve known you my entire life.”

“Doesn’t mean you know everything about me,” Dean snapped.

 _Yes, I do_ , Castiel thought, but instead he said, “You have snot dripping from your nose.” He pointed to his own nose. “It’s unattractive and gross.” _Not really_ , Castiel thought. _You could never be unattractive. Gross, yes, but never unattractive_.

Dean sniffled. “Gee. Thanks, Cas. You sure know how to make a guy feel better.”

“Why would you need to feel better?” Castiel asked, ignoring the prick of hurt that he felt that he had potentially hurt Dean’s feelings.

Dean groaned and threw his head into his hands. “Just…go. Sam’s probably eavesdropping in the stairwell, anyway.”

“I’m not leaving,” Castiel said petulantly. He shifted himself further onto the bed until he was leaning against the wall. He crossed his legs and folded his arms across his chest.

Dean leaned forward on his elbows, sighing. He pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes and rubbed them. There was a moment of silence between them, the only sounds in the room being Dean’s occasional sniffle and the whirring of the electrical heater across the room. Dean wiped his nose on the sleeve of his henley, leaving behind a thick, wet trail of mucus.

Castiel almost didn’t hear it when Dean mumbled it, since he said it so softly.

“Lisa broke up with me.”

Castiel almost stopped breathing. “ _What_?”

Dean’s eyes pooled with unshed tears, and he awkwardly wiped his nose again. “She said, ‘I didn’t know what I was doing with my life,’ and that ‘she needed security.’” Dean’s expression contorted into one of anger. “Damn it, we’re _twenty_. Who the fuck knows what they’re going to do with their life when they’re _twenty_?”

For once, Castiel didn’t know what to say. Lisa and Dean had been dating since they were sixteen. Castiel had been twelve at the time, and he remembered the day when Dean came home bragging about how he was dating the most beautiful girl in school. He and Sam had been working on their Mathlete packets for the upcoming competition. Castiel went home early that day.

“Ah, fuck,” Dean said with a watery laugh. “You probably think I’m some kind of pussy now.”

“I don’t think you’re a…a, um, pussy, Dean,” Castiel said. He cleared his throat. “I don’t think she knows what she’s missing.”

Dean shook his head. “Nah, man. I’m pretty sure she’s right. Mechanical engineering sounds all fancy, but, hell, I don’t even know if I’m going to get a job after I get my degree.”

Castiel picked at the skin around his cuticles. “Dean, why were you with Lisa?”

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed. “What? Why would you ask me that? I love her.”

Castiel tried not to feel too stung by the present tense of _love_. “Why do you love her?”

“She’s…” Dean swallowed thickly. Tears welled in his eyes again. “Fuck, Cas, she’s beautiful. She loves my music and she cares about animals and shit and she wants to help the world and she’s so fucking smart and she smells like this one lotion from Bath and Body Works—Twilight Woods and don’t look at me like that I bought the set for her for her birthday, okay?”

Castiel bit his lip. “Dean, sometimes I think you underestimate yourself.”

Dean stared at Castiel, confused. “Huh?”

“What I’m saying is,” Castiel said, “is that _you’re_ all of those things too.” Castiel blushed. “Except you don’t smell like Midnight Woods.”

“ _Twilight_ Woods, Cas,” Dean corrected, ignoring Castiel’s compliment. “It’s _Twilight_ Woods.”

Castiel tried to conceal his laugh to no avail. “It’s very uncharacteristic of you to remember such a small detail.”

Dean looked away, embarrassed. “It’s not small.”

“It’s fine, Dean,” Castiel said. “You know, sometimes people drift apart.” He went back to picking at his cuticle. It was bleeding now. “I believe that if two people are really meant to be together, they’ll find a way to be together.”

“Is that really a thing, Cas? Or did you make that up?”

“Does it really matter?”

Dean gave him a small smile. “I guess not.”

Sam chose this moment to barge in. “I don’t know if it’s been ten minutes, but I heard laughter.”

Castiel gave him a small smile. “You wouldn’t be incorrect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of these chapters are going to be beta-read. I just quickly type 'em up and go. I have rated this explicit because of upcoming chapters, and I might add more tags as I go along. Also, this is just a mini compilation of ficlets that was originally one document, but I thought it was better as a multi-chapter thing. I may come back and edit the chapters, but, overall, these are just fun little things that occur in the same universe that I write in my spare time.
> 
> Thank you for stopping by!


	2. Or Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes people say things they don't mean, and other times they mean things they don't say. This time, however, he said things he definitely did mean. He just wished he hadn't said anything at all.

Cas didn’t remember much of his childhood. It wasn’t something he really wanted to remember. There were lots of good parts, but they were outweighed by the bad parts. The Winchesters and their endless kindness were not enough to neutralize the toxic environment that he dwelled in almost every day.

Though his memories were scarce, he did remember lots of holidays. Most of them involved screaming and name calling between his parents, but in particular, he remembered Halloween. Now, Halloween was a holiday that he spent with the Winchesters every year because his mother allowed Mary to oversee trick-or-treating. It was only for a few hours, but Castiel loved it all the same.

He remembered one specific Halloween when he was six and was dressed in a dragon costume that was a tad bit too big on him. The dragon headpiece kept falling in front of his eyes, and he really couldn’t see all that well. Plus, his Power Rangers candy bag was getting really heavy. It was when Sam pushed them to run to the last house that Castiel tripped and ended up scraping his hands on the pavement.

Dean and Jo had also been trick-or-treating with them, and he remembered when Dean gave him a piggy back all the way home, despite Castiel sobbing into his ear the entire way. He remembered Mary wrapping his little hands with Spiderman bandages. He also remembered when he came home, and how he desperately tried to hide his hands from his mom. Because if she saw what happened, she might not let him see Sam and Dean anymore.

But, now, eleven years later, Halloween was still Sam and Cas’s favorite holiday. Like ever. And even though they were now seventeen, they still went trick-or-treating, unashamedly. The neighborhood didn’t care that they were older because they had known Sam and Cas their entire lives, and they were good kids. Straight A’s, volunteers, the works.

This year, Sam went as a cowboy. He actually had recycled Dean’s old costume because he was saving up money to take his crush, Jessica, on a really nice date. Castiel thought it was a nice gesture and rooted for his best friend. He himself was going as Poseidon, god of the sea.

Sarah and Jess decided to join them on their trick-or-treat run this year, too. Castiel didn’t mind. He and Sarah got along really well in AP Art History, and he even invited her over a couple of times to play video games with him. He didn’t know Jessica that well, but he knew she was a cheerleader. Sam seemed to like her, and that was enough for Cas.

The doorbell sounded, and Sam went to answer the door. Castiel followed, but not before he shoved a Snickers bar into his mouth. He strolled into the main hall to find that Dean was at the door, not Sarah and Jess. And not only was Dean dressed in a suit and tie and _oh god he was beautiful_. Castiel, standing in his Olympian god costume with his mouth open and full of chocolate, couldn’t help but stare (more like gape) at the sight before him.

Sam sighed. “Dean, why are you in a suit?”

“I didn’t have time to buy a costume, so I just wore one of my suits,” he replied, letting himself in. He struck a quick pose for Cas. “So? What do you think? I’m an FBI agent.”

Castiel did his best to quickly chew and swallow what was left of the chocolate bar. “I…good. Good look you. Shit, no. I mean, you look good.”

Dean grinned. “Yeah? I like your dress.”

Castiel blushed deep red. “It’s a _himation_ , Dean.”

“A what? It looks like a toga.”

“Togas were worn by the _Romans_. I’m Poseidon. An Olympian. From Greece.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, but then laughed. He ruffled Castiel’s hair on his way past him into the kitchen. “You and Sammy were always the smart ones!” he called back after him.

Sam followed Dean into the kitchen after shutting the door. “Why are you here? Is there a party going on in town?”

Dean, sucker wedged to the side in his mouth, replied, “Why you gotta assume I’m here to party? I could just be here because I miss my dear baby brother.” Sam’s resulting bitch face was priceless. “Fine, fine. I concede.” Dean chewed up the cherry sucker before tossing the paper stick into the trash. “Jo’s throwing some party at the Roadhouse. She needs some help, and I’d figure it would be a good time.”

Sam’s face lit up. “Can Cas and I go?”

Cas’s heart sank. He didn’t do well at parties. “W-what about Jess and Sarah?”

Sam glanced back at Cas and grinned. “Can they come, too, Dean?”

“No way, bitch,” Dean said. “Mom would kill me if I took you.”

“Not if you ‘supervised’ us,” Sam said, eyes shining bright, begging Dean to say _yes_.

“Supervise you, my ass!” Dean stared Sam down for all but five seconds before he relented and grumbled, “You better not tell Mom.”

Sam pumped his fist into the air and let out a triumphant “hell yes” before the doorbell rang once again. “That’s Jess and Sarah!”

Castiel’s heart sped up. There was no way in hell his mother would allow him to go to a _bar_ to attend a party with _college students_. Swallowing thickly, he walked into the living room and sat down on the couch, turning on the TV to some Halloween special. He vaguely heard giggling girls behind him in the hallway and then suddenlysaw them in his peripheral vision. Sarah sat down next to Castiel, and she was, coincidentally, dressed as a mermaid. Jessica was dressed as a cowgirl.

“You two match!” Jess said, grinning from ear to ear.

Castiel glanced at Sam suspiciously. “You wouldn’t have had anything to do with this, would you?”

Sam shrugged. “I may or may not have tipped them off last week.”

Castiel bit his lip and looked over at Sarah. “You look pretty.”

Sarah blushed. “Thanks, Cas.”

“So what’s this I hear about a party?” Jess piped up.

“Dean’s friends are throwing one at the Roadhouse,” Sam replied. “Pretty cool, right?”

“Yeah. Right, Sarah?” Jess asked, glancing over at her friend.

Sarah grinned. “Sounds like fun.”

Castiel didn’t say anything, but he did feel his anxiety grow worse as the seconds went by. Dean called them to pile up in the car, and that was when Castiel froze. He _really_ didn’t want to go to this party, but he also didn’t want to be the one that ruined the night. Who was Sarah going to hang out with? Surely, she would feel like the third wheel with Sam and Jess.

“Uh, Sam, can I talk to you?” Castiel said with a surprisingly steady voice.

Sam said something to Jess before walking over to where Cas stood in front of the garage. “What’s up?”

“Do we _have_ to go to this party?” Castiel asked. “I mean, can’t we just take them trick-or-treating with us?”

“Cas, _come on_ ,” Sam whined. “Trick-or-treating is for _kids_. We’re seventeen.”

“So?” Castiel said. “We go every year. Mrs. Summers is going to be upset that we didn’t see her yard decorations.”

“She’s, like, eighty, Cas,” Sam said, groaning. “I don’t even think she _remembers_ it’s Halloween.” Castiel was about to protest when Sam pouted. “Please, Cas? For me? I don’t want to spend Halloween without my best friend.”

Castiel sighed. Perhaps his mother wouldn’t notice that he didn’t bring home a huge sack of candy. Perhaps he could get away with leaving the party early. And perhaps he _could_ have a little fun.

Yeah, he could do that, right? He could do that for Sam.

Castiel dragged himself towards the black muscle car that Dean so affectionately dubbed “baby”. Sam took the front seat, and Cas ended up sitting between Jess and Sarah. The Roadhouse was on the other side of town, not really far away, but not really close, either. Castiel’s head started to throb on the way there. It could have possibly been due to Dean’s obnoxiously loud rock music blaring through the speakers.

“Alright, everyone out,” Dean said after he parked his car. “Don’t let me _catch_ you drinking, or I’ll haul your asses back home.” He paused for effect. “Do I make myself _absolutely clear_?”

“Got it!” Sam said, opening the door for Jess.

Castiel looked at the bar wearily before stumbling out of the car after Jess. He and Sarah almost immediately got separated from the group, and with the two of them left, an awkward silence that usually was never there ensued.

Sarah shuffled her feet. “So…did you finish the reading for Art History?”

Castiel sighed in relief at the familiar topic. “Yeah. Don’t we have a quiz next week? How are you studying for it?”

“Oh,” Sarah said. “You know…looking at my notes. Maybe skimming the PowerPoints.” She glanced around the room. “Hey, you wanna get some pretzels?”

Castiel looked over to where she was staring. He saw a rotating wheel of soft pretzels and a cheese fountain. His stomach grumbled on cue. “Hell yes.”

Sarah smiled. “Great!” she took Castiel’s hand and dragged him behind her to the pretzels.

The pretzels themselves weren’t _that_ great, but he didn’t expect them to be. He was just happy to have food in his stomach. He and Sarah ended up making some more small talk and nibbling on some other food here and there. He found himself actually kind of opening up and enjoying himself, even though he was socializing with only one person.

After a little while, Jess showed up with Sam at her side, and she gave Sarah a certain look which must have meant something in girl-speak because the next thing he knew, Sarah was saying, “hey, I’m going to use the restroom,” before she hooked arms with Jess and strolled away.

Sam’s smile could have rivaled the Cheshire cat’s. “Sarah’s totally into you,” he said.

Castiel froze. “What?”

“Sarah,” Sam clarified. “She likes you.”

“W-what?” Cas repeated dumbly. “She can’t—I mean— _I_ can’t—she—“

“You should totally ask her out,” he said suddenly excited.

Castiel was overwhelmed. “No, wait. Sam, _listen to me_ —“

“It would be _so cool_ ,” he gushed. “We could double date and stuff.”

“ _Sam,_ ” Castiel bit out, a tad harshly. He was getting a little angry.

Sam frowned. “What is it?”

“I’m not dating Sarah,” he said. “We are _never_ _going_ to date.”

“But…she _likes_ you!”

Castiel looked at Sam as if he’d grown two heads. “What is _wrong_ with you? Have you been drinking?”

Sam face distorted into something similar to angry confusion. “What? No! Why the fuck would you think that?”

“Because you’re trying to set me up with some girl that I clearly have no interest in, and, quite frankly, Sam, you’re being kind of a _dick_.” _Wow_ , Castiel thought, _Where did that come from?_

Sam glared at Cas. “Sarah’s not just _some girl_ , Cas. She’s your friend and Jess’s friend and—“

“I don’t give a fuck if she’s _Jess’s friend_ —“

“—she’s going to ask you out.”

Castiel crossed his arms over his chest. “And I’m going to say no.”

Sam sighed heavily. “Why won’t you give her a chance?”

Castiel ran both hands through his hair, exasperated. “ _Because, Sam_. I like _boys_ not _girls_.”

Castiel’s heart dropped when he saw Sam’s demeanor change. He began to feel nauseous when he saw that Sarah and Jess were just coming out of the bathroom. He felt faint when he saw Dean walking towards them. Everything in Castiel’s body screamed for him to run away and hide and all he could think was _“that wasn’t how I wanted to tell him_.”

“I…” Castiel said, a little breathless. “Don’t tell anyone, okay? I’m…I’m not ready for…I’m not ready.”

Sam shook his head. “Wait, Cas, listen—“

“No, I’m done listening tonight,” he stated. “I’m…I’m going home.”

“Let me get Dean—“

“ _No_ ,” Castiel said vehemently. “I’m walking.”

With that said, Castiel left with Sam calling after him. As soon as he walked out the doors and past the parking lot, Castiel broke out into a sprint. He did some running in his own time to keep healthy, but he was by no means a pro.

 _What if he thinks I’m gross_? Castiel thought. _What if he never speaks to me again? Shit I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked up. I FUCKED UP._

He was out of breath as soon as he hit the fourth block. He knew where he was, thankfully, so he also knew that he was a good forty-five minutes away from home by foot.

He got as far as Mrs. Summers’s house before he stopped. Of course, when he knocked on the door, she answered, warm and inviting like she always was, and she was happy to see him. He complimented her yard decorations, and she gushed. He somehow ended up sitting at her dining room table with a mug of fabulously brewed cinnamon tea.

“Why the long face, dear?” Mrs. Summers asked, setting a plate of pumpkin spice cookies on the table.

“I said something that I shouldn’t have,” Castiel mumbled, ignoring the tea and picking at his cuticles instead.

Sometimes people say things they don't mean, and other times they mean things they don't say. This time, however, he said things he definitely did mean. He just wished he hadn't said anything at all. Or maybe he should have said something in the first place—about the stupid party. All Castiel knew was that he wished tonight had never happened.

Mrs. Summers took Castiel’s hand in her feeble ones. “These things happen, Castiel. And when they do, let them. Because from my experience, time only moves forward. Never back.”

Castiel felt a painful clenching in his gut. “I…I wasn’t ready to tell him…or anyone, really. I just…I _really_ wish I hadn’t said anything.”

The old lady smiled gently. “Time heals all wounds. Isn’t that how the saying goes?”

“Yeah,” he said. He picked up his mug and took a sip of his tea. “Yeah.”

He stayed for a little bit until his mother called him, quite furious, saying that Sam and Dean were at his house, looking for him because apparently they were worried. She only calmed down when he said he was having tea with Mrs. Summers. He also told her to tell the Winchesters that they could go home. Later that night, he ended up walking home to a dark and quiet house where he felt more lost and lonely than ever. He made his way up to his room but didn’t bother stripping off his costume. He fell asleep within a few minutes.

He and Sam didn’t talk for the next few days. It was only when Sam showed up to Castiel’s door, bawling and saying he was sorry that Castiel decided that he wanted his best friend back. Sam crushed Castiel in a hug, and Castiel felt significantly better.

And that evening when they were playing video games, Sam said, “Oh, and Cas?”

“Yeah?”

“Dean said he already knew,” Sam said. “You didn’t tell him before me, did you?”

Castiel’s jaw must have hit the floor. “You talked to _Dean_ about it!?”

“I had to! He was freaking out on me!” Sam exclaimed.

Castiel took a deep breath, calming himself before mumbling, “I never told him anything.”

“Huh,” Sam said. “He must be really observant or something.”

 _Or something_ , Cas thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I trick-or-treated until my last year of high school, and in my neighborhood, it was not weird to trick-or-treat up until that age. So, if you found that, or anything else for that matter, weird, keep in mind that particular scenes are based off of my personal experience. :)
> 
> Also, do not walk home alone at night like Cas did. That's dangerous. I'm not here to lecture you, but please be safe.


	3. Distracted

Though Castiel’s mother was miffed that he’d rather spend Christmas with the Winchesters rather than his overbearing family of religious zealots, she understood, to some extent, that Castiel wasn’t really the religious type. And though she didn’t exactly like the idea, she loved her son enough to respect his beliefs.

Castiel was actually kind of shocked that she had such a calm reaction. He supposed that she wasn’t a complete monster. Even though she and his father never got along, she still loved her children to the extent of being incredibly strict and overprotective. Why she and his father never got a divorce was beyond him. It probably had to do with the fact that neither wanted to compromise the well-being of their children, which was extraordinarily stupid since their constant bickering and violence did quite a number on the kids.

It was when he was packing his duffle bag that he heard the loud crash and the screams.

“You _son of a bitch_!” he heard his mother screech.

Castiel’s heart thudded. The same thoughts ran through his head whenever his parents were fighting: _I should just blast music in my ears or ignore it or tell them to shut up_. Instead, he did what he always did: watch from afar and desperately hope it was over soon. He sprinted downstairs and stopped in the stairwell where he peeked around the corner to spy on the scene. There were miscellaneous objects thrown about. The lamp was broken. His mother had a cut on her lip that matched the one his father had on his forehead. His mother landed one more solid punch to his father’s jaw before she backed away, seething with rage.

His father’s eyes glimmered with rage. “ _I’m_ not the one cheating!”

“ _Cheating_?” his mother said, disbelieving. “I hardly even _see_ him.”

“ _Don’t you dare_ ,” his father hollered. “You’re a _whore_ that’s been sleeping around!”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” she hissed. “You are _dead_ to me. The _only_ reason I am still here is for Castiel. He’s the _only_ reason I put up with your sorry ass.”

“Castiel doesn’t need _both_ of us, Naomi!” he yelled. “He’s going to college in a year. Let’s just get fucking _divorced_ already.”

“You know why we can’t do that, Charles,” Naomi snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Fuck what your father thinks!” Charles barked. “I want a divorce, Naomi. This was never supposed to last. I stayed with you because of Castiel, and now that he’s older, I want nothing to do with you.”

Naomi scoffed. “Oh! I’m _wounded_ ,” she said, bitterly sarcastic. “And I’m sure that the monthly check has nothing to do with your staying?”

Charles’s face turned red with quiet rage. “The money isn’t worth it anymore,” he said lowly. Before he stormed out of the room, Charles snarled, “Go get Castiel. We need to drop him off at the Winchester’s.”

Naomi made a beeline for the stairs and Castiel ran back to his room as quickly as he could. His heart was beating out of his chest, and he felt sick to his stomach. Of course, he knew that his parents had an arranged marriage. He knew that they were never in love. But, he never knew that his father was being paid to stay. Or was he? His family’s name was pretty big, he realized, but he never thought that it was _so_ big that it would matter if their perfect family was marred with divorce. He always thought it was stupid—the old fashioned views his family had on marriage.

Castiel’s head throbbed. He was confused. He didn’t know what was going on, but he didn’t want to find out. He just wanted his parents to forgive and forget, and he wanted them to tolerate each other. He wanted all those wishes on birthday candles and stars for a normal family to come true already. He didn’t _ask_ to be born, god damn it! He didn’t _ask_ to be put through this!

The sudden knock on his door startled him, making him jump. Castiel stood up from where he was slumped on the floor and straightened himself out. “Come in!”

Naomi opened the door and peeked in. “Are you ready?”

Castiel nodded quickly. “Yes.” _The sooner I get out of here, the better_ , he thought.

The Winchesters lived very close to the Novaks, but it was snowing pretty badly outside. Naomi would not let Castiel walk the short distance on his own, not that he minded. He didn’t want to trudge through a snowstorm. When he arrived at the Winchester’s, it was a little late. Naomi and Charles’s flight was even later, however, and they had a long way to drive to the airport.

Though he should be excited to spend the holidays with Sam, Castiel was not in a good mood. He found himself a little relieved when Mary told him that Sam was already sleeping because that meant he had time to think. He made himself comfortable in the guest room and tried to stay awake to mull over the events of that day. But he was asleep in minutes.

. . .

The next day, he helped Mary in the kitchen. His still horrible mood and wandering train of thought is how he ended up burning his elbow on a piping hot baking sheet with the sugar cookies that Mary had just lovingly made. Castiel didn’t want to cry. He _really_ didn’t. And, really, he wasn’t crying because of the now red and stinging burn on his elbow, but because he had been feeling depressed ever since the holiday season begun. He didn’t know why, but he felt _so_ immeasurably _alone_ , even though he was surrounded by people that loved and cared for him.

This feeling also had nothing to do with the fact that Sam was out with his new girlfriend. Frolicking into the fucking sunset.

_Stop it_ , he thought to himself. _Stop being jealous and petty._

However, Sam _had_ been the one to invite him to spend the holidays with him in the first place. It stung a little bit when he asked Castiel if he was okay with him spending time with Jess.

“I’m sorry, Cas, but I thought you were coming later _today_ ,” Sam said, clearly upset. “I feel so bad.”

Castiel shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I didn’t exactly clarify when I’d be over, anyway.”

Sam’s puppy dog face was final straw. “Are you sure?”

Castiel sighed. “Yes, Sam. I am sure.”

Castiel knew Sam would be home later to spend the rest of the day with him. So, why then, did he feel so horrible on the inside? Why then did he feel like he just wanted to run away from everything? _Why_? His parents fought _yesterday_. He always gets over their fights within a day. He trained himself to do that. The strange feeling of hurt and betrayal was foreign, and he didn’t like it.

He excused himself while Mary was fretting over the slight burn on his elbow. He went out the front door and fumbled around a little bit before he just rounded into the backyard. He found himself hiding in the old shed out back, shivering, pathetically lonely, and crying next to a very abnormal looking decorative Halloween pumpkin. He sat, arms around his torso and hunched over, on an old paint stained stool that occasionally made an appearance in the Winchester household when Mary decided she wanted to break out her paints and canvas. Castiel inwardly cursed himself for not bringing his puffy winter coat with him. The thin black sweater that clung to his already lanky frame did nothing to brace him against the cold.

“F-fuck,” Castiel mumbled, sniffing.

His eyes, the red tinge from the crying contrasting greatly with the deep blue of his irises, immediately flicked over to the shed door. The wooden door creaked on its hinges as someone pushed it open. When Castiel caught sight of the ripped jeans and leather jacket, he was a little less than enthusiastic.

_Shit_ , he thought, _Dean. Why is it always him?_

He was whistling, Castiel noticed. He knew that Dean tended to whistle a lot. At first he found it endearing, but as the years went by, it just grew more and more annoying. Castiel prayed that he blended into the background of holiday yard decorations and various gardening tools, but, of course, his day just _had_ to get worse.

When Dean spotted him, sniveling and with pale lips trembling for both the cold and crying, his whistling droned out, and he raised an eyebrow. “Cas?”

“Were you expecting someone else?” he asked, a tad bitter.

Dean didn’t take it personally. He sauntered over to where Cas was sitting and pulled up another stool right in front of him. “Were you?”

Castiel examined Dean’s face for a moment to see if he was messing with him. When he deemed Dean’s expression void of insincerity, he replied, quite sadly, “No.”

“Mom told me you were staying for the holidays,” Dean said casually. “Didn’t know you were staying in the shed.”

_And there’s the sarcasm_ , Castiel thought. He glared at him. “Obviously, I’m staying in the guest room.”

Dean took a moment to reply. He glanced at Castiel’s elbow, where it was gently cradled in his hand. “Something happen to your arm?”

“Nothing,” Castiel mumbled. “Just got a little burn.”

Dean’s eyes flashed with something akin to concern, but it was too quick for Castiel to discern what it really was. He reached forward to grab Castiel’s hand, and as he did, he flinched. “Holy shit, you’re a popsicle, dude.”

“I didn’t exactly think this through,” Castiel said.

Dean licked his lips briefly before shrugging out of his jacket. Castiel’s eyes widened when Dean placed the jacket over Castiel’s shoulders before reaching for Castiel’s burned arm again. Dean slowly pulled up the soft sleeve of Castiel’s sweater as he eyed the burn. A blister was forming, but that was to be expected. Not that Castiel was concerned. He was too busy looking at Dean’s freckled face, his long eyelashes, his pink lips.

“’s not _so_ bad,” Dean said. He looked up at Castiel, and their eyes met. For a moment neither of them moved. “Is…is this why you were crying?”

Castiel flushed bright red. “I-it doesn’t hurt or anything.” He yanked his arm away from Dean. “I’m fine.”

Castiel suddenly felt incredibly childish. Dean was obviously being mature and caring and just _himself_ , and here Castiel was, crying that he was alone and that his best friend was off gallivanting with his girlfriend and what he really wanted was someone like Jess. Not Jess, of course, but someone to be obnoxiously in love with.

For months now Castiel has been feeling more and more depressed. He felt a little numb all of the time, and he didn’t know why. Sometimes the feeling got really bad, and it took him over the edge. Sometimes, like now, it was mild, and he couldn’t do anything but hide and mope until he couldn’t feel sorry for himself any more. Castiel sincerely hoped that this episode was a one-time thing over the holidays. He wouldn’t want to be a wet blanket on the Winchester’s holiday parade.

Dean seemed to read the atmosphere because then he tightened the leather coat over Castiel’s lean body and stood up. “Come on. I think we have some burn cream in the house or something.”

Castiel inhaled the dulled scent of leather and tobacco. Smoking was a horrible but occasional habit that he knew Dean had. He never said anything about it. Sam lectured Dean enough for the both of them. He followed Dean wordlessly out of the shed, and only then did he realize that he could probably never have someone to be obnoxiously in love with because he only ever wanted to be in love with one person.

In the guest room, Dean dressed his wound, idly humming a tune Castiel didn’t recognize. Dean didn’t mention Castiel’s crying, and he didn’t say anything when soundless tears slipped from Castiel’s eyes onto his lap. Because now that Castiel realized that he never wanted anyone else, he also realized that meant that he was going to be chasing after something he could never have.

Plus, the bad feeling in his heart was getting worse.

Dean left Castiel to his miserable self, and pretty soon, he found himself fast asleep. He woke up a few short hours later, cranky because he _hated_ sleeping in his jeans. He strolled downstairs just in time to witness Dean interrupt Sam and Jess kissing underneath the mistletoe on the front porch. Being the older brother, it was only appropriate for him to disturb and embarrass the shit out of poor Sam. Castiel just walked past to the living room where the sugar cookies sat on a plate on the coffee table. Cas shoved one into his mouth and smiled at Sam when he plopped down next to him on the couch.

“She’s _so_ amazing, Cas,” Sam gushed. “She likes dogs, and she’s really smart. She plays three instruments, Cas. _Three_. I can barely play the piano, and I’ve had lessons.”

Castiel had to laugh at that. “She’d probably go deaf listening to you play.”

Sam made a face. “You’re supposed to say, ‘you’re not _that_ bad, Sam.’”

“That would be a lie,” Dean chimed in.

“Who told you to butt in, jerk?” Sam snapped.

“Cas is my friend, too, bitch,” Dean said. “Right, Cas?”

Castiel turned around to see Dean looking at him with a hopeful expression. And in that moment, Castiel would have done anything for that man. “Of course, Dean.”

Dean grinned smugly at Sam. “See?”

And just like that, Cas felt a little bit better. The dark cloud that was swirling in his head was still present, but now it felt a little less prominent. Sam and Dean bickered in the background, and Castiel felt like he was home. _This is where I belong_ , he thought. He picked another cookie off of the plate and smiled to himself.

. . .

Christmas came and went just like any other major event. It was pretty downplayed; there was no big huge celebration. But, Dean’s uncle, Bobby, and his buddy Rufus did come over alone with Ellen, Sam and Dean’s grandparents, and Jo, whom Castiel knew from school. Dean had invited some woman named Cassie, and she was beautiful. Castiel was a little bit heartbroken.

Sam and Castiel mostly messed around with Sam’s new Christmas gifts, which consisted of a slew of video games and a chemistry set. He got clothes, but Sam seemed less enthusiastic about those. Castiel was surprised that the Winchesters had gotten him gifts. It was just a hat, gloves, and scarf set, but he was grateful nonetheless.

“Aww, look!” Sam yelled, pointing at Dean where he stood with a beer in his hand with Cassie. “ _Mistletoe_!”

Dean raised an eyebrow and glanced up where they stood in the living room entrance. He grinned handsomely and gave Cassie a look that would have melted Castiel’s heart. “What do you say?”

Cassie’s laugh was like bells. “I’m not into PDA, Dean. You know that.”

“Come on, Cassie,” Dean said. “It’s Christmas.”

Cassie pursed her lips, thinking. “I suppose it _is_ the holidays.”

“Right,” Dean said. “And you should kiss me now.”

Cassie’s smile was white as snow. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against Dean’s, and there was a chorus of cheers and whistles. Castiel focused on taking Sam’s chemistry set out of the box, unable to watch the scene before him out of jealousy.

“Cas, you wanna try out this game?” Sam asked.

Castiel’s lips thinned. “Yeah.”

He wished it didn’t have to be Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that it's been, like, a millennium since I've updated. I am quite busy with medical school applications and the works. I have written bits and pieces of the next chapters, and I gotta say...I make my boys cry way more than I should. I don't even know if I wrote Castiel very well in this chapter...I was just emulating some of my own fears. Meh. Anyway, shitty parents are shitty parents, and Castiel has been whumped and will continue to be whumped. I'm sorry.
> 
> This chapter feels a bit incomplete, so I might come back and fix it later. I also did not have the time to look this over (not that I ever do...*laughs nervously*).
> 
> Feedback is appreciated!


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